My Boy Jack

by David Haig

3 - 12 April 2008

This touching and heartwarming play by David Haig visits the family of Rudyard Kipling before, during and after World War One. Kipling, by now a very famous writer, is a staunch defender of The Empire and Britain's military power. He is desperate for his son Jack to join up, in spite of his poor eyesight, so that he may prove himself a man. The rest of the play follows Kipling as he deals with the inevitable consequences of war and its effect on his family and his own long held convictions. This terrific play does, however, contain some strong language.

Photos

Photos: Peter Whittle

In Rehearsal

Cast

Rudyard Kipling		John Lacy
John Kipling		Daniel Quinn
Elsie		Kathryn Ritchie
Carrie		Margaret Hey
Guardsman Bowe		James Highsted
Colonel Pottle		Tony Neale
Major Sparks		David Ryland
Frankland		Dennis O’Neill
Young John		Tom Forman
Guardsman McHugh		Steve Boxall
Guardsman Doyle		Sheridan Smith
Young Elsie		Saskia Jiggens

Director		Tony Dent

Croydon Advertiser Review

18 April 2008
Theo Spring

Tremendous impact was made in this production - first by the ingenious and evocative set, designed, with care, by director Tony Dent and secondly by the quality of the acting – in particular the two long monologues delivered by John Lacy as Rudyard Kipling and James Highsted as Guardsman Bowe.

Set at the onset of the First World War the heavily emotional story is based on Rudyard Kipling’s persistence in assisting his son, Jack, to join the army, although Jack has already been turned down for service due to his very poor eyesight. By pulling strings, Kipling succeeds in getting his son commissioned into the Irish Guards, against the wishes of his mother and sister. The tale tells how the family come to terms with, at first understanding Jack to be missing, believed injured, then given positive evidence that he was killed, aged 18, after being at the front for just two weeks.

As Kipling, Lacy undergoes the gamut of emotions from euphoria to remorse, taking the lion’s share of the narrative and showing us the inner man.

Daniel Quinn brings to life Jack’s desire to explode against the confines of home, kicking at the ties as any teenager would today, but showing the parental respect inbuilt into his upbringing. Sharing his private thoughts, Kathryn Ritchie plays his sister Elsie with empathy for his dreams and with her own strength of character blossoming. To Margaret Hey falls the tricky task, as mother and wife Carrie Kipling who had already lost her firstborn Josephine, of showing huge emotions on stage with limited dialogue through which to express it.

The military are well served by the clipped vowels of Major Sparks (David Ryland) and Colonel Rory Pottle (Tony Neale) and the contrasting Irish brogue of Guardsmen Bowe, McHugh and Doyle (Steve Boxall and John Seaward as the latter two.)
Cameo roles bring in Jack and Elsie when young (Tom Foreman and Saskia Jiggins) and Mr Frankland – Phil Wright.
Vernon Culver’s evocative sound, Caz Frost’s demanding props and an intensive smoke machine brought the war to reality and the Miller Centre wardrobe accurately dressed both civilians and military, with a special mention for Elsie’s beautiful wedding dress.

Over long and, at times, ponderous, the powerful drama hits hard, played out against the contrasting backdrop of a spacious, wood panelled room and a cramped dug out where fear and courage take turns to reign.

Surrey Mirror Review

17 April 2008
Peter Reed

Drawing its title from Rudyard Kipling’s reflective 1915 poem, David Haig’s highly emotive play, My Boy Jack, examines the real life events surrounding the loss of Kipling’s own son John, called Jack, at the Battle of Loos.

Even if long, at almost three hours, Haig’s story has some well scripted dialogue, covering both the historical facts and the family background as well as the emotional dilemma of a family and nation at war.

Such dramas always present the additional challenge of authenticity, and in this director/set designer Tony Dent must be congratulated. Not only was he fortunate that his two main characters of Rudyard and John bore an uncanny resemblance to their real life counterparts, but also the oak panelling in the opening set of the Drawing Room was very reminiscent of the real Parlour Room at Bateman’s, while the dugout on the Western Front smacked of a true likeness, if perhaps seeming a little too clean and dry.

Likewise, costumes, except a couple of Carrie’s, attained the accuracy required – all of which completed a most acceptable replication of the era. It was such a pity the scene changes were lamentably slow.

Paramount to success is the portrayal of Rudyard, the proud impulsive father, the dominant husband and the patriotic public figure.

In the main John Lacy held this part together very well, though the extremities of his emotions might have had even more conviction. Occasionally the pace flagged, including in scenes with his wife Carrie, Margaret Hey, who for me never quite showed the true bitterness of losing a son and who seemed also to struggle with the exactness of the American accent.

Daniel Quinn made an excellent John – a teenager desperate to escape his claustrophobic existence, yet always fearful of under achieving. His transformation to a young second lieutenant in command on the front line was so typical of many young men of his time.